I Have a Feeling

by EMOSAURUS

When Harry's mother died, all that's left is her belongings, her husband, and her son. But when James decides to date again, what will become of Harry's gonna-be stepmom?

3. Stacy

I Have a Feeling

Chapter Three: Stacy

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One day, Harry was playing in his room, alone, when he heard his father calling from downstairs. "Coming, Dad!" Harry called, opening the door to his room, and running downstairs.

"What is it?" he asked. No sooner had he spoken, a woman with red hair and brown eyes entered the room. "Who's that, Dad?" Harry asked quietly. James grinned.

"Her name is Stacy. We're getting married in a few weeks, and she's going to be your new mum." Harry's heart sank. "But—but--- she doesn't like me!" Harry cried.

"Nonsense," said Stacy. "You're absolutely adorable!" Harry could tell she was faking it, but knew that he could never convince James of it.

Harry gave Stacy a fake smile and walked upstairs. Harry didn't come out of his room for days, and because he had a bathroom in his room, he could still get water, but wouldn't come out for food. James constantly tried to get into Harry's room. No matter what, he couldn't. He found it odd, but nonetheless, he knew why; Harry still missed his mother. However, Harry would adjust in time, James thought.

SIX YEARS LATER

"Hermione, I don't want to get up for school," Harry argued. He had made friends with Hermione in first year, when she tripped over the rug and landed on him. He had helped her up, and they'd been friends since. "Why not?" Hermione asked.

"Because I don't have to," Harry answered. Hermione frowned.

"Everyone has to go to school, Harry," Hermione said.

"Not me," Harry said simply.

"Why do you think you're so special?" Hermione said angrily.

"Because today's my parents' anniversary. Dumbledore and I are going back to my house so we can 'celebrate'," Harry said sarcastically.

"You don't seem too excited about it. They're your parents, and you love them, right?" Hermione said, sitting down on the bed. "Yeah," Harry said. "That's what everyone keeps telling me. You wanna come? I'm sure Dumbledore would let you." Hermione smiled.

"Just so I can keep you company," Hermione answered.

Harry got up and dressed and he and Hermione were just about ready to go to Dumbledore's office, when Harry said, "Hermione. You're NOT wearing that uniform to my bedroom. Go change into something more casual, would you?"

Hermione sighed and went upstairs. She put on jeans, normal shoes, and a T-shirt.

"Thank you," Harry said. Hermione nodded and went with Harry down to Dumbledore's office.

"I'm only allowing Hermione to come because I know for a fact she has all the homework for the next three months finished," said Dumbledore. Hermione smiled sweetly, and they all took a Portkey to Harry's house. When they got there, Harry led Hermione upstairs to his room.

"Nice room," Hermione said. She sat down on Harry's bed. Harry's bedroom was large, and his bed was comfortable. Hermione lay down on the bed, and hid underneath the blankets. She giggled.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. "Harry," said Stacy. "Your father wants you to come downstairs." Harry sighed.

"I'm not going downstairs! It's not my bloody anniversary!"

"He says he'll ground you if you don't."

"Good! He can kiss my ass for all I care! I'm not coming downstairs!"

"He wants you and your girlfriend down here now!"

"NO!"

With that, Stacy left. Hermione looked at Harry. "What?" Harry said. "This is what I put up with on Christmas, and the summer... it's so impossible living here."

Hermione sighed. "Well, can we please go downstairs? I haven't had breakfast yet, and I'm hungry."

Harry shook his head, but led her to the kitchen anyway. Hermione sat on the counter while some toast was in the toaster. When it was done, they were about to leave the kitchen when---

"Harry! Finally! Your mother told me what you said, and I know you're angry at me all the time, but would please not act as though it's her fault?" James cried. Harry's eyes narrowed at 'your mother' because Stacy was NOT his mother and would never be his mother. "She's not my mother," Harry said angrily.

"Yes, Harry. She is your mother."

"Having her around for since I was seven doesn't qualify as being my mum! Quit calling her that!"
"She's your mother, and you will respect her in that way. Drop it," James said venomously.

"She's not my mum," Harry whispered. "Hermione, let's go for a walk."

Harry and Hermione left the house and went outside. They walked several blocks. "Where are we going, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"You'll see," Harry said quickly.

They stopped at a large, grassy field. Harry walked around, looking at the ground for a few minutes. He stopped. There was a large, rectangular stone in the ground with the name 'Lily Evans Potter' on it. He knelt down. He picked some flowers that were a few inches away and put them on the ground. "Sorry this happened to me, Mum," Harry said quietly. "I hate Stacy." Hermione looked at Harry with pity, but didn't hear what he had said. When they left, Hermione asked, "Who is Lily, anyway? Was she your sister or something?" Harry stopped. He turned to Hermione. He shook his head. Hermione wouldn't understand why Harry said Stacy wasn't his mom. Harry always tried to forget about the last moments he'd spent with his mother before she said goodbye. Harry knew Hermione was smart, but she was acting like a blonde at this point.

Harry didn't even bother. Hermione and Harry got back to Harry's room. Harry was quiet. He pulled a small envelope out of his dresser drawer. He handed it to Hermione, who opened it. The envelope had pictures of a skinny woman with red hair. She looked like Stacy.

"Harry, I hate to bring it up, but why do you hate your mother so much? I mean, she seems nice," Hermione said.

"I don't hate my mum. I love my mum."

"Then how come you're so mean to her?"

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You speak to her as though she's scum."

"No, I don't. Hermione, what are you talking about? You've never even met my mum."
"I might not have met her, but I see her at the beginning and end of every year at King's Cross."

"Nobody's seen my mum for six years, Hermione."

"That's not true! I just saw her!"

"Where?"

"Downstairs."

"Hermione, quit talking about my mum."

"But--- I want to know why you hate her!"

"I don't!" Harry shouted, his voice cracking.

"Harry! Don't ignore my question!"

"Why not?"

"Because I need to know!" Hermione yelled. She looked up at Harry, and saw that his face was red. He looked as though he was suppressing coughs, but she could tell he wasn't. It was something different.

"Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked calmly. She sat next to Harry on the bed. Harry shook his head.

"No, Harry, what's wrong?"

He shook his head again.

His body was shaking, now.

Hermione hugged him. "Tell me what's wrong."

Harry, once again, shook his head.

"I can't," he choked.

"Why not?" Hermione asked. Harry shook his head. "I can't tell you," he said. Hermione hugged him tighter. Realization hit Hermione like a brick. "Lily was your mother, wasn't she?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded, and then began sobbing softly onto Hermione's shoulder. "It's okay," she reassured him. When Harry cooled down a bit, Hermione asked, "Why do you hate Stacy?" But, just then, Stacy burst into the room. Hermione was still sitting right next to Harry. Stacy looked horrified. "JAMES! HARRY WAS KISSING HIS GIRLFRIEND AND THEN CALLED ME A BITCH!" she screamed.

"That's why. She tells my dad all these damn lies, so I get in trouble. Dad probably hates me now. Listen... 3...2...1..."

"HARRY! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" James shouted. Harry gave Hermione a look that clearly said, "I hate my life." Harry walked downstairs.

"What is it, Dad?" Harry said solemnly.

"Don't 'What is it, Dad' me! You know very well what!" James yelled. Harry glared at his father. "We weren't, and I didn't," Harry said simply. "You know that Stacy's a bitch! I just don't like to say it to her face!"

James's face turned red with anger. "Don't call your mother that!"

"STACY IS NOT MY MOTHER! MY MOTHER IS DEAD!" Harry shouted. The room was silent. Hermione watched from the banister. "And you know what, Dad?" Harry said quietly. The room was still quiet enough to where everyone could still hear. "I think the wrong one did die. Not me, not Mum. We don't deserve to die. You. I have my doubts. Let's go, Hermione," Harry said. Hermione followed Harry out the front door. Harry sighed as they walked down the sidewalk.

Stranger than your sympathy

And this is my apology

I killed myself from the inside out

And all my fears have pushed you out

Hermione looked over at him. She could see that he was silently crying, but was obviously holding everything back. Hermione's heart sank. The two took the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron, and then went to Diagon Alley. They traveled by Floo to the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley was surprised that anybody was there. "Harry! Hermione, dear—what are you doing out of school?" she asked. Harry sighed.

"It's my dad's anniversary with Stacy today. Stacy just... went too far, and so did Dad. I don't want to go home, but I'm going to have to next month for Christmas. My dad'll have the Ministry put me under arrest and classify me as a runaway. Anything to get me home."

And I wished for things that I don't need

(all I wanted)

And what I chased won't set me free

(all I wanted)

And I get scared but I'm not crawlin' on my knees

"I never did like that Stacy woman. She looks as if she works she works the street corners when James goes to bed!" Mrs. Weasley said. "What did she do?"

Harry sighed. He told her everything that happened that day. "He keeps trying to brainwash me into thinking that Stacy's my actual mother," Harry said.

"I hate Stacy, and I hate my dad. I really wish it wasn't my mother that died."

Oh, yeah

Everything's all wrong, yeah

Everything's all wrong, yeah

Where the hell did I think I was?

"Oh, Harry. You don't really mean that," Hermione said. Harry laughed evilly.

"Hermione, I really do. If Mum could change my dad, she could change any other asshole. She loved me, probably more than she did my dad. She'd believe what I'd say about anyone she'd date, no matter how nice they seemed.

And stranger than your sympathy

Take these things, so I don't feel

I'm killing myself from the inside out

And now my head's been filled with doubt

"And... I wish it was my dad that had cancer. I wish I could end up... someone else's kid. Not his. Someone else." Harry paused. "It's not as though I wish Dad would get the Crucio or something, just... just die."

We're taught to lead the life you choose

(all I wanted)

You know your love's run out on you

(all I wanted)

And you can't see when all your dreams aren't coming true

"Hermione? Do you think that... maybe Sirius would let me stay with him instead of at home?" Harry said hopefully. Hermione nodded. "Sirius believes what you say. Of course. He probably doesn't even like Stacy." Harry nodded. "Good. I'm not going home until Stacy's gone."

Oh, yeah

It's easy to forget, yeah

When you choke on the regrets, yeah

Who the hell did I think I was?

And stranger than your sympathy

And all these thoughts you stole from me

And I'm not sure where I belong

And no where's home and no more wrong

"I can't believe she lied like that. I mean, I can, it's just... why? I didn't do anything to her. Well..." Harry said. "Now, it's just war. I'm going to make sure I never have to deal with Stacy again. I'll make her leave. My dad'll realize something's going on."

And I was in love with things I tried to make you believe I was

And I wouldn't be the one to kneel before the dreams I wanted

And all the dark and all the lies were all the empty things disguised as me

Mmm, yeah

Stranger than your sympathy

Stranger than your sympathy

Mmm hmmm mmm

"He won't love Stacy anymore."

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So! That's the end of this chapter. I'll make sure that there's some cool stuff included in this story. If anyone has any suggestions about what I can do to revise it or make it so you'll like it even more, tell me! 2,149 words! Forget about what the word counter says!

Later! ---Cameron Seiger (not really).